Betrayal
by heroineanilem
Summary: Well, I tried to evoke Alexander's dilemma before reaching decision of Philotas' execution.


Title: Betrayal  
Author: heroineanilem  
Summary: Well, I tried to evoke Alexander's dilemma before reaching decision of Philotas' execution.  
Rating: PG-13  
Feedback: All constructive comments are appreciated  
Disclaimer. Unfortunately I don't own them and don't make any money out of them.  
Category: Historical  
A/N: There is a slight description of torture. And, since I don't have a beta all mistakes are mine.

An October night in Zarangiana was not much different from the summer nights of Macedonia; the air was hot and muggy, dripping with humidity. It was only by sudden whiffs of cool air, rushing through open doors and windows and unnoticeable cracks in the walls of the aged castle, that one could notice the first signs of refreshing autumn. Yet, sometimes it seemed that there were no seasons, only one long summer.

In the past couple of months, after it emerged from the Aria desert, the Macedonian army had been moving through desolate plateaus and arid hills, stamping dark, sandy soil on its hard march and inhaling dusty air that burned their lungs. The province of Zarangiana was a total opposite with its fertile land, scattered villages and a long-unused castle on a top of a hill.

The castle was old, made of brick and dried mud, and with round holes for windows it resembled a dungeon or a swallow's nest rather than a royal residence.

On this early autumn night the castle looked more haunted than ever, bathed in the faint light of cold moonrays. An obscure figure was climbing decaying stairs made of oak wood that led from the basement up to the top of the castle. Hephaestion's steps were slow, yet firm every time he stepped on a rotten step that might have given way under his weight. His shoulders were hunched, shortening his tall, muscular frame, his every move weary and tired; he was sure that if any of his soldiers saw him now, they wouldn't believe it was their tough commander. However, he didn't care about anyone's opinion right now, his only thoughts were of Alexandros, who was up there in the tower in his chambers weary and anxious as Hephaestion himself, and of that broken figure lying bloodied in the basement, a person who had been a high ranking officer until now.

No matter what he thought of Philotas the depth of his betrayal stung him hard and he could only imagine how it must be for Alexandros, who had given him the highest command after his own; commandant of companion cavalry, he only fought under Alexandros himself, when the king led the right wing.

Philotas' cries of pain and anguish were still resonating in Hephaestion's mind, or was he actually moaning again although the torture was over, Hephaestion didn't know. He was disgusted and felt light headed, though it wasn't from the task for it hadn't been much worse than what he'd seen before, except for the fact that the person tied to the wheel was not a Persian spy, but a man with whom they had shared their hunger and thirst on the marches, important decisions, good and bad on this campaign.

It was in the basement of the castle where they tortured Philotas. When Hephaestion entered Crateros and Coenos were already there with Philotas tied to a wooden bench naked, spread eagle like. He exchanged nods of courtesy with two other generals. Their faces were masks of indifference; only in Coenos' eyes could he notice slight uneasiness, as after all Philotas was his brother-in-law. Lastly, he locked his gaze with Philotas' and it didn't surprise him to see twinges of fear in his blue eyes; coming from Macedon he was familiar with the punishment for high treason, attempting regicide... betrayal of a friend. Unlike his eyes, his face kept a cover of serenity; Hephaestion wondered how long would it take him to strip it down and throw it on the cold, stone floor.

When he turned around, Hephaestion saw that slaves had already put up all means of torturing. The air was muggy and smelled of stale wine, from barrels which were set next to the walls, soon to be filled with the sharp scent of blood. Under some other circumstances Hephaestion would never have volunteered for such a job, but with Alexandros being the target everything had changed. It didn't matter to him any more who he would have to inflict pain, scars and fractures upon, he didn't care about anything save for revenge. There could not be enough suffering and misery for anyone who wanted to take Alexandros away. Yet, he knew he had to stay calm and rational, not to abandon control of himself.

As he watched Philotas lying motionless, tied down, with his glance fixed on an imaginary dot on the ceiling, Hephaestion's anger rose quietly in his heart, leaping higher, creating an all-consuming flame of burning fury in his veins. He barely managed to hear Crateros' roar directed at the naked form, but he was unable to understand a single word. It didn't come as a surprise when Hephaestion's whip landed suddenly on the chest of the unprepared Philotas, inciting a high-pitched scream and causing his exposed body to spasm. Hephaestion tensed at that, bringing himself together, knowing that letting himself be drowned in anger wouldn't do any good; he was here to extract some information, he wasn't a murderer no matter how much he wanted to make Philotas feel the pain he'd caused Alexandros.

After that sudden outburst Hephaestion took control of his nerves, asking the questions whose answers he needed with chill in his deep resonating voice and with the same precision as his whip when alighting on marred skin. He saw how Philotas' eyes rolled in his eyesockets with fear every time he directed some attention to him. Philotas knew that Crateros was there to torture him because of rivalry, his own brother-in-law due to self-preservation and Hephaestion...on account of love, and as such was merciless.

Hephaestion had watched Crateros hissing insults into the ears of their victim, humiliating him, making him respond as the short-tempered and aloof man he was would and in turn punishing him with the help of hard wooden clubs sporting iron cones of different sizes. Philotas' shreiking and battered body from which the red substance of life was seeping in constant rivulets was a sight Hephaestion knew he would remember for ever, because the man had been their companion, regardless of his personal opinion of him.

Crateros was bawling to Philotas how he wanted nothing more than to rip piece by piece first his limbs and ears and then his whole body, when Hephaestion had seen in the corner of his eye a figure silently entering. He didn't need to turn to see it was Alexandros. Crateros' insults subsided and gave way to questions that were thrown into Philotas' face.

Hephaestion watched his beloved standing still at the door not moving. He didn't say a word, his face was a mask of sorrow and disappointment and in his eyes was a single, unspoken question: Why. Philotas must've noticed his presence for he cried out that he would tell anything Alexandros wanted, if only the torturing could be over. Alexandros didn't say anything, he stayed a couple of minutes more and left.

The young general didn't remember for how long the torture had been going on, but despite the fact that it seemed to have lasted for eternity, he was sure it hadn't taken more than an hour. All three of them left Philotas' barely conscious figure with orders to the slaves to give him water and lessen his pain if possible. At the end Alexandros didn't see any reason for excess; he strictly ordered them he wanted no mutilation.

As he climbed the last stair to Alexandros' chamber Hephaestion remembered the parting words he told Philotas:-Ah, Philotas, if you are so weak and unmanly as this, how could you involve yourself in such a dangerous business?  
There had been no pity in his heart for Philotas' broken moans and cries and pleas to finish with him.

When he stepped towards Alexandros' quarters he was aware how long it took him to climb the stairs, but he knew that he had first to compose his feelings and run through the events in the basement in his memory before confronting them with Alexandros.

Not only pages, but also hardened soldiers were standing in front and around the entrance to Alexandros' rooms. Hephaestion did not even notice them and they didn't try to stop him in the distressed state he was.

It wasn't before he closed the thick oak door with a screeching sound that Hephaestion had any intention of speaking up. It took him a couple of seconds to adjust his eyes to the dimness that ruled the chamber and a couple more to locate the well-known silhouette of his beloved pacing in the shadow not unlike a sleek panther.

Alexandros had more felt than noted Hephaestion's presence, moving with his back towards the door, the only reason his instincts hadn't taken the better of him. He kept his arms folded around his figure, unconsciously protecting himself or seeking comfort in an imaginary embrace, a demeanour that reminded Hephaestion how vulnerable Alexandros was. Yet, he didn't move from his place next to the door.

"It's over.",a hoarse whisper shifted to the left, stepping on a ray of moonlight that waved its pattern on the stone chamber floor, his every step drowsy. "He didn't say anything more."

"No, he didn't. Not more than we suspected."

"It's not enough.", Alexandros' heavy sigh floated through the sultry air, carrying a strange, but not unpleasant scent of freshly mowed grass to Hephaestion's senses. "A man under torture would confirm anything."

Ponderous silence fell, neither of them having any strength left. A tide of tiredness washed over Hephaestion, disposing a drift of uneasiness and cold sweat onto him, a wheeze escaping his red lips. He watched mesmerized a play of shadow and steady, silvery threads on Alexandros' face half turned towards the sky and stars as if they held the mystery of life and death only for him. Hephaestion wanted to start reporting the events of the night to Alexandros, when he slowly turned, facing away from the illuminating heavens, locking his gaze to Hephaestion's with intense sharpness. The young general watched in a daze the mask of detachment and regal control slipping away from Alexandros' face, revealing raw emotions written across ghastly features. He would wait and prepare himself to catch Alexandros when it fell and broke.

Alexandros' eyes sparkled under the faint light like polished diamonds, their mist hiding his thoughts when a sharp cry ripped from his soul:

"How can I trust you?! Any of you! How to be sure that none of you is involved!", a sob broke his sentence, his eyes oblivious to everything. A look of breaking hurt made itself known for a split second in Hephaestion's eyes.

"Alexandre...", Hephaestion's voice turned into a hoarse gasp, the expression on his face turning from one of bewilderment to one of hurt and finally anger.

"What, Hephaestion?", he mocked "You think it can not be also Ptolemaios or Perdikkas, or Seleucus... they all see me every day, dine with me, laugh with me, enjoy life with me and would probably enjoy my death!"

"Alexandre! It's enough! You can't accuse any of them. They are your friends."

"Philotas was also! He's visited me twice a day, and yet has never mentioned a plot!", Alexandros was gasping for air, his fury evident in his eyes. "And you as well, Hephaestion! You are my friend! My arrrrrgggghhh! For Zeus' sake, you know everything about me..."

Hephaestion could not believe Alexandros' words, would not. Did he really think what he said? That all of them were his enemies? Or was this his only his way to vent out? He had never seen him like this, but then again, never before had Alexandros discovered a plot against his life. Hephaestion felt he had to think and to think quickly. It looked like a battlefield, though he had a feeling that his only enemies would be Alexandros' hurt and mistrust, the toughest enemies he had ever encountered.

"Yes, you know everything...and that makes you the most dangerous!", Alexandros was practically shouting, blind to everyone and everything.

For a moment the king stopped his yelling, only to let a scream tear from his throat, like a battle cry. Before Hephaestion could act, he felt a sharp punch of Alexandros' strong fist hit his chest, then another his shoulder. He flinched in pain, but didn't do anything to stop the shorter, but nevertheless strong man.

"While the whole intrigue had been going on none of you knew anything! How can I trust even YOU?!"

"Stop it, Alexandre!", Hephaestion shouted, but his lover didn't seem to comprehend their position. Hephaestion's arms hurt from Alexandros' blows. They weren't intended to really hurt him, but they stung. He looked in his beloved's eyes and saw nothing in them, they were bereft of any feeling but hurt and disappointment and they were haunted. Without thinking about it too much, he suddenly pushed Alexandros away, his fist connecting with king's jaw, making him lose his balance. Alexandros cried out in surprise, seeking support in his lover's chiton, pulling him with himself to the ground.

As they landed with a loud thud, neither of them moved. Hephaestion's larger frame was sprawled on top of Alexandros', his strong hands pinning Alexandros' shoulders to the ground, their bodies tensed, muscles twitching in their limbs. It seemed that the whole world stopped existing in no time. At least it appeared so to a young page, who entered to see for his king's safety; for sure it was his lover with him, but with things spinning in the way theyhad in the past days no one was clear, at least not to him. One glance at two flushed bodies lounging on each other, emitting choked groans and rapid breathing, his king's legs spread wide was enough for the youth to blush furiously and close the door as quietly as possible.

Alexandros' leg cramped under his lover's weight, so he moved it. The moment was broken, but it looked as if the world's equilibrium had shifted, giving way to solemn dilemmas. Hephaestion stood up, shaky on his legs, but strangely relieved. Alexandros remained sitting on the floor, with his back to an old bed that creaked whenever he sat on its overfluffy mattress. He bent his legs, spreading them a bit and placed outstretched arms on his knees, his face once again turning towards the steady beam of cold light coming in through frameless windows, as pulled by divine strings. In front of him, his lover lit torches fastened to the walls and warm coppery light spread itself around the barely furnished room. Hephaestion looked questioningly towards the king, who dropped his head, orange tones pulsating across his lightly tanned face.

"I didn't mean all that...", Alexandros whispered, sighing deeply "Anger got the better of me...or was it fear?", Alexandros uttered his outmost dread. "I don't know what I would do without you...If you were to betray me ever, I'd rather be eaten by a hundred lions."

"Don't speak of such things.", Hephaestion cut in, tiredness palpable in his voice. "You know...let's not speak about the obvious when there's all this hell going on."

"I'll stop...I know Hephaestion...I don't know what had gotten into me, while you weren't here it seemed that every single person from general to whore could be a traitor. I would never do this if it was someone else and not you in front of me...You know that?"

"I know it, love."

"So, he didn't say anything more."

"No, Aleksandre, he didn't. He did confess that Parmenion and himself were connected to Hegelochus, who died at Gaugamela..."

"These are all guesses. Yes, he did confess, but a man in his position doesn't have much to lose...All he wants is a quick death; he knows that...and he hates me. Why?", Alexandros let out a sigh, desperation floating in his words, like a boy who couldn't understand why an adult dislikes him, no matter how hard he tries. "I asked Dimnos the same thing, when they summoned him this past afternoon", Alexandros continued talking to his confidant, his features resuming their steely hardness. "You weren't here. I was taking a bath, when one of those pages from the armory ran in, breathless, shouting that a plot against my life had been revealed. Then, Cebalinus came frightened for my life, for himself and his brother's life. You should've seen him.", Alexandros chuckled " And when he told it was Philotas who he informed, not once, but twice, asking him if he told me, I felt like thunder struck me: I couldn't move, couldn't feel, everything was numb inside me, couldn't comprehend the situation. I think I stared at him like he lost his mind for eternity."

"I think the worst is that those who brought Dimnos, let him kill himself. Now we don't have the link."

"I know. When they brought him in on a stretcher, he was passing out. I really wanted to know why. What made him so bitter to wish me dead. How have I offended him?"

"Alexandre, you know that most probably it wasn't anything direct."

"I'm aware of that. Yet, we both know, that there might be more than just one out there."

"Have you questioned those whom Cebalinus mentioned?"

"No, not yet. They are all arrested though...Would you believe me if I tell you that the mightiest man of both Europe and Asia feels smaller than an ant."

"Ants can be dangerous, especially those red ones.", Hephaestion retorted and felt his heart swell when a small smile appeared on his beloved's lips.

"I just don't know what to do."

"It seems that your companions haven't helped you much.", Hephaestion remembered the meeting Alexandros called. He only watched it, standing next to his king, with his arms crossed, a living wall. Hephaestion didn't want to take part in the discussion, knowing that whatever decision Alexandros made he would call for his counsel before doing anything. What was more important at that moment was observation.

The meeting room was nothing but an oval chamber a bit bigger than Alexandros' that usually served as a dining area, and with a floor paved with square stone blocks, worn-out at the egdes, and only two old tapestries hanging down moldy walls, it could be mistaken easily for a barn. Crateros was first to come, running in without any courtesy towards the king, addressing him by his name, a manner Persians hated, reporting that all routes out of the town were blocked according to the king's order. Hephaestion's sharp eye didn't miss the aura of pride that surounded Crateros. He was one of many men of low origin, who had got up the ladder by merit. Hephaestion suspected his opinion on the matter and wasn't surprised when his suspicions were confirmed.

Many of the companions spoke on the matter, some kept quiet, not knowing what to say except to console their king. Nevertheless, he didn't remember anyone's speech, but Crateros'; it may be because all were more or less the same, or because Crateros' had a cursed way with words. Yes, what he said was right, yet his every word stank with jealousy, competition and conflict. Hephaestion silently approved Crateros' for opening Alexandros' eyes: there was no place for forgivness, either from sentiment or fear, the man became dangerous and he had to be eliminated, it was that simple. Hephaestion knew that Crateros was right when he said that a man like Philotas, whose daring had been so great couldn't be changed by pardon; he knows that after such a deed there is no future, only shame for both himself and his father, of course if one finds him guilty.

"No they haven't...Though, Crateros was right."

"Yes, he was. But, you must cast some shadow on his motives."

"He won't get to lead the Companion cavalry after Philotas, Hephaestion.", Alexandros assured him. "Although I thought of it, it's only now that it all happened...It's too much power for one person."

"So, you definiteely accuse him of betrayal and attempting regicide?", Hephaestion asked sharply.

"Do you think he is not guilty?", surprise in Alexandros' voice was unmistakable.

"No. Only want to make sure that there will be no self-imposed blame on your shoulders for his conduct."

"There will always be guilt, Hephaestion.", Alexandros sighed, his features drowning in anguish. Hephaestion draped his arm around his friend's waist, pulling him closer to himself and playing with soft blond locks when Alexandros placed his head on his shoulder. "I would give anything if I could know if he was was he part of the plot or just an opportunist",Alexandros' voice sounded muffled with his lips pressed into Hephaestion's shoulder, his nose inhaling the unique scent that was his lover's, the only thing that had an immediate calming effect on him.

"Regardless of what his acts were, he is guilty."

"I didn't understand him, Hephaestion. When he was brought after that cursed dinner that we had to share with him, he accused me of so many things, some that even Zeus himself could not be held responsible for. And yet, he did confess that he heard that the plot existed, but didn't believe in it, not even when Cebalinus came again to warn him. Two days, Hephaestion! He waited for two days and he obviously had no intention what so ever to report it to me! Was he simply waiting for the opportunity! And what then? Did he think what would happen once I was dead ?!", Alexandros was exasperated, resuming his pacing around the room.

"He very well could.", Hephaestion stated calmly, not letting anger sway his judgement. "You know, if you calm yourself for a minute and think logically we might come up with something."

Alexandros stopped his unnerving stroll in front of Hephaestion, with his hands on his hips and legs apart.

"Look, Alexandre, Cebalinus went to Philotas, which means that Dimnus hadn't revealed Philotas to Nicomachus as one of the conspirators, either because he didn't know or didn't want such a big name mixed with everything, though it would be more persuasive if he had had some men of status to back up the plot. On the other hand, if he was a conspirator with the rest, don't you think he would arrange for Cebalinus and his brother to be silenced in this godforsaken land?"

"It's true, but again, wouldn't Philotas eliminate them even if he only waited for an opportunity to arise?"

"That's a thing I doubt we will find out. Although, everyone acts differently when face to face with the unexpected; he might simply have misjudged the situation. "

"Then, does it mean...", Alexandros' voice broke, his forehead furrowed, a smirk gracing his full lips. He felt as opening Pandora's box: whatever he did he would feel responsible. This was worse than some mythical being, just when he thought he had beheaded it, there were ten new heads growing from its blood.

"I think it does." Hephaestion's blood stricken eyes connected with Alexandros'. " There's another conspiracy going on, perhaps not developed, but the idea is certainly there. The one that is led by Philotas. Think of it: he has an idea how to do away with you, nothing completely formed yet, but it still exists. Then, a boy comes and entrusts him to reveal a secret of a plot against your life. He must've seen this as extraordinary luck. He would let them have their way with you, but wouldn't be in any way connected to them, so once you were dealt with he wouldn't need them and could execute the assasins, then connect with those conspirators of higher status and make a new king. The only question remains is: would both parties have the same person in mind."

"That is possible, but we don't have any evidence. Whatever his reasons were, he purposefully hadn't told me anything about the conspiracy, dismissing it as hearsay, endangering my life and for that he is guilty...Only why?" Alexandros felt on the verge of a breakdown. His mood shifted from absolute calmness to that of a mad lion.

"You know why." Hephaestion whispered, not meeting Alexandros' gaze. His head rested in his hands, his fingers from time to time clutching and releasing auburn tresses, staring at a pool of light under Alexandros' feet.

"Because just six weeks before this I wore that Persian dress?...Philotas himself profited from Persia! He is richer than myself...and I never said anything. When I left Macedonia I gave up everything I had...He wants to turn back time. He hates Persians but uses their gold, their women, their land, he indulges in wine, Persian slaves, royal luxury. In Macedonia he would never have his hunting nets stretched for miles. He refuses to see that he has changed, as every single soldier has..." Alexandros stopped, thinking and than slowly uttered, waves of light emphasising lines of disilliusionment on his fair face: "He acted as a boy whose toys were snatched away and he wants them back. He shouted in my face that the whole campaign was his and his father's work and that I hadn't succeeded in anything except to drag us all to this cursed place, chasing after murderers and villains. He accused me of being a self-righteous demi god, of false piety since there were no resources to stop and bury Nicanor. He was a good man, better than his brother in any case, leader of the Shield –bearers...I respected him and...As if I wouldn't like to stop and honour him! For Zeus sake, we were short of supplies! I couldn't risk the whole army for one man. Philotas had changed after Siwah, he always mocked me, as I haven't believed in gods...And then, he mentioned Hector. Do you remember him?"

"I do." Hephaestion whispered, trying to catch Alexandros' glare fixed on the silver plate outside in the sky, his arm looking for support on the cold wall.

"Philotas blamed me for Hector's death. That it was my fault he drowned in the Nile...that I was to blame he wore armor...and that he was almost a boy, a sweet boy...and I used him..."

"Alexandre, I've heard him." Hephaestion smiled a crooked smile of understanding. "You were told about conspiracy back in Egypt, but you didn't believe. Will you believe now that it has been lasting since then. "

"How could I not dismiss such rumors?! He and Parmenion...they were broken. Parmenion lost his youngest son. Of course he would blame me for everything. I've been their king. I assumed it was only a way to vent out, nothing serious. "

"But he confessed. And it seems that he has been holding a grudge ever since."

"I know...I know."

"And, Alexandre, you remember Antigone, Philotas' mistress?" Hephaestion arched his eyebrow.

"He has always been boastful...since I remember him. It didn't come as a surprise that he would brag to his mistress about his own exploits. Every soldier does that after a battle...it only hurt that he rejected all my successes as his father's and his own. Parmenion is a great soldier, but his son is nothing but scum."

"Well, common soldiers do love him." Hephaestion sighed.

"Due to Parmenion...Hephaestion," Alexandros spoke, as he recalled something. "A letter was found, from Parmenion to Philotas." Alexandros produced it and gave it to his friend. "As I told you before the most ambiguous part is the one where Parmenion says: 'First take care of yourselves, for in that way, we shall bring off our plans'."

"You told me about it. And Philotas confessed that the design was to be blamed on Hegelochus. It doesn't help much, since he's dead."

"You know what, Hephaestion, no matter how much I would like to excuse Philotas, there are too many things against him...and Parmenion. I only wonder who they thought to replace me with." Alexandros locked his gaze to Hephaestion's when they said in unison: Alexandros of Lyncestis.

Alexandros breathed out a sharp sigh filled with desperation. It was worse than Ariadne's woollen ball; it had started unwinding and Alexandros wondered if it would take him to Minotaurus.

Alexandros thought back time to when he was first introduced to the Lyncestis brothers, how he was a child back than and they were already youths. His namesake was often found in the company of Philotas and Amyntas, the young prince whose throne Philippos usurped and whom Alexandros eliminated in his own battle for power. He recalled how Alexandros of Lyncestis hailed him as king on Philippos' death and then wondered on whose side Philotas had been at that time. Perhaps Philotas betrayal ran deeper than he thought.

"Philotas was a friend with Amyntas, when Philippos was assasinated." Alexandros thought aloud, renewing his pacing. "However, he changed sides quite quickly once he saw that he misjudged me. I forgave him for his friendship with Amyntas, though I shouldn't've his betrayal of Amyntas; no matter how much it served me, I shouldn't have forgotten that he has history and sent him to his father. And Parmenion, he was quick to let his son-in-law be killed. However, I thank him for letting my men murder Attalos."

"I told you I've never trusted Philotas. I'm sure that he had been informing your father on your every move, remember the affair with Pixodarus' daughter."

"I was really stupid back then." Alexandros snorted, recalling how much it cost him, such a foolishness. "But, you were also against it, yet didn't go to blab it out to Philippos."

"Your father was an extremely cunning man: he tied all his elite men to himself, all those marriage alliances. You shouldn't forget that Alexandros of Lyncestis is Antipater's son-in-law and also of princely blood."

"I assume that it wouldn't be hard for Parmenion and Antipater to connect, once they killed me and I can only imagine how happy Antipater would be to eliminate my mother, as well. That especially, after my mother sent me that letter to beware of my name sake, you know when we were up north of Phaselis, just before the Issos horror."

"It seems it was a clever thing to put him in custody."

"It seems that he will have to go as well. I really tried not to kill anyone I didn't need to. However, his presence becomes dangerous. This might be the first time, but who knows if there won't be a second." Alexandros thought, biting on his lower lip from time to time, drawing blood, yet not feeling.

"It's just about time you came to your senses, Alexandre." Hephaestion shouted, as a man from whose shoulders a great load has been removed, and then, said softly, his voice a smooth whisper: "I can't let anyone take you away from me." Then he pulled him down, next to himself, touching every part of his beloved's body just to make sure he hadn't disappeared anywhere and then kissed assaulted lips.

"If I am to execute Philotas, then it leaves me with one more dilemma." The young king groaned in Hephaestion's chest.

Without looking at him or asking, his lover read his mind. –Parmenion. It sounded like rustle of desert sand, moving in a whirlwind, just to settle forgotten.

They were sitting in silence, each knowing the other's thoughts for he himself was thinking the same. Parmenion was one of the wisest and oldest generals; he was a youth when Philippos had been born and a distinguished officer by the time he climbed the throne. Alexandros respected him, though quite often rejected his too cautious advice. He was adored by soldiers and admired by officers. He was a veteran, with the thoughts and actions of one.

And now he had been retired in Hamadan, commanding the royal treasuries, keeping safe the crossroads for Alexandros from rebellioous' bands that had been plundering unsettled territories with twenty thousand troops loyal to him.

"Philippos told me once that Athenians elect ten generals every year, but he had only found one: Parmenion." Alexandros ran his hands over his face, his grey eyes blazing fevered, a glimmer in them flashing like sunbeams on a polished sword.

"I would love to know where Kleitos is now..with his six thousand?"

"Not far from Hamadan, somewhere on the road to here. " Alexandros looked in his lover's eyes meaningfully.

"Close enough to be revoked...a veteran calling for another against a spoilt brat. " Hephaestion muttered, not breaking gaze into Alexandros' soul, confirming his fears.

"You know what it would all mean." Alexandros stated after pregnant silence, his voice hoarse.

"I suppose there will be some restlessness, friends being abandoned, men fleeing." Hephaestion smirked at humans' changeable loyalty. Most see him as arrogant and yes, he despises most of them, but in a way pities them, too, for there would be nothing in this world to change the only constant in his life: his love for Alexandros.

"This is too much. I don't want any excessive purges. I won't kill their relatives, friends, family members. Regardless of how much one wants to follow Macedonian laws, there are things that need change." Alexandros looked away and Hephaestion thought how under the copper, oily light that enveloped his sturdy form and with the thin line going downwards from his lover's lip when he reached an unalterable decision, he indeed resembled Achilles ready for a fight.

Shadow fluttered across Alexandros' face, forerunner of a storm that was about to drown his senses, only to leave emotions to float on his expressive face. Alexandros liked Parmenion a lot, even loved him long ago as only a child could a grown up who showed him honour without pampering, loyalty without flattering.

"And what now? Now I'm going to kill Parmenion, a man who never showed anything but trust, because of his stupid son!"

"Alexandros...he might not be that innocent. If any, he would be a worthy opponent...think in that way."

"Poseidon's balls, Hephaestion! We've already had this conversation before." He calmed down, after his initial outburst, and then said bitterly "As if I don't know."

"I'm just trying to make it a bit easier on you...It has to be done and you'll do it. It's necessary."

"I'll send Polydamas tomorrow. With a letter from Philotas and one from me." He arched an eyebrow questioning Hephaestion, who although surprised a bit concluded that Alexandros was after all Philippos' son, no less cunning when necessary.

Not expecting an answer, Alexandros slid next to Hephaestion on a crude woven carpet in front of his bed, seeking warmth and consolation, like a wounded cub, licking his wounds in his den. Hephaestion pulled him to himself, tracing the outline of his muscled arm up to his soft, pliant lips. His other arm slipped around his waist, pulling his chin covered in light stubble up to face his lover. Alexandros looked straight into Hephaestion's eyes, the expression in them hard and unfathomable.

"Always do only what is i unavoidable." he breathed, his lips moving against his lover'sfingers.

The young king molded his form in his lover's, his hands clutching his arms, enfolded in a powerful embrace. Alexandros' lips mouthed one word: prophthasia. Together they waited for crimson dawn to spill its blooded light, soaking the soil and stone under them, and bathing them in warriors' colour.

THE END


End file.
